You'll never hear a Leapord coming
by Am I imaginary
Summary: A young Narnian is captured by Telmarine soldiers under the command of Lord Miraz. Her presence is soon forgotten and after a year of living beneath the Telmarine castle she escapes it's clutches. Years later she is reunited with Prince Caspian as he attempts to assist her people in the fight against the Telmarines. Eventual Caspian/OC.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Captured

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia: the lion the witch and the wardrobe or the characters within said fandom however I do own my OC's. This fan fiction has been created for entertainment purposes only and is a non-profit fan fiction.

Chaos took hold of the castle, Lords were summoned by the Lord Protector in the late hours of the evening and maids bustled around the candle-lit castle to relay these messages to their superior's. Even the young Prince Caspian was awoken from his slumber by his Professor, as his presence was requested in the Lord's hall. Upon entering the meeting chamber the Lord's took their designated seats and awaited Lord Miraz's arrival. As was the norm, he burst through the large doorway in a flurry of material as his ebony cloak billowed around him. Upon seeing his nephew cowering in the corner of the hall beside his Professor, he strode over to the young boy grabbing his forearm and dragging him to stand beside the Lord Protector's seat, before taking the seat himself. Lord Miraz, after ensuring all Lord's were present, crossed his right leg over his left and addressed the court; his voice echoing off the stone walls. "My Lord's," he began; " I know the hour is late, but sleep well still yet elude you." Upon hearing a groan escape the mouths of every Lord present, he quickly stood and paced in front of the empty throne. "For thousands of years we Telmarine's have been thwureatened by the existence of the Narnains, we have attempted to exterminate their very existence and free the forest of their being. Yet... it seems that several, despite being small in numbers, are still yet living beneath the trees canopy." He paused allowing his words to sink into the minds of those around him. "One such Narnian decided to stray from the forest and found their way into our clutches. This Narnian, this vermin, is but a child; around Prince Caspian's age." he gestured towards his 15 year old nephew. "Their age effects their strength, not just physically but mentally. We can manipulate this Narnian's mind, they will tell us the filthy secrets of the forest dwellers!" A murmur of agreement spread throughout the hall.

Lord Gregoire rose from his seat beside his cousin, Lord Sopespian. "Bring us the Narnian offspring, finally we will defeat the children of Aslan!" These were words of encouragement enough for Lord Miraz, he smirked at the outspoken Lord. "General Glozelle, bring in the prisoner!" A small amount of bustling was heard before the wooden door swung open. General Glozelle marched hastily into the room gently pushing a young girl in front of him. He stopped in the centre of the room and presented the girl to Miraz. The child appeared to be human but her appearance differed greatly to the Telmarines. Where their skin was tanned hers was pale, the traditional dark brown eyes of a Telmarine contrasted greatly to her grey-blue. She titled her head backwards so as to better look upon Lord Miraz, her brown hair; which fell to just below her shoulders, swayed gently behind her.

Lord Gregoire took a step forward, his eyes narrowed. "A human? I thought you said she was Narnian!" At this exclamation several more Lord's rose from their seats. Lord Sopespian strutted towards the young girl and ripped the cloth, preventing her from talking, from her mouth. "Well?! Are you a Narnian?!" The girl retreated in panic, her eyes widening and slammed into the legs of General Glozelle who in return rested a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head upwards, her eyes meeting his. It pained him to see tears threatening to fall from the corners of her eyes. Glozelle knelt down and as tenderly as a Telmarine soldier could, questioned her, "What t is your name young one?" He was the first to speak to her without anger in his voice and it took her by surprise. "Kestra" was her quiet reply.

"Well, Kestra. Would you care to answer my question?!" spat Sopespian. The answer was so quiet that the Lord's had to lean in to hear her. "Yes. I am Nanian."

Professor Cornelius took this opportunity to intervene. He pushed his way to the front of the small crowd. "And how many of you are there left?" he inquired.

A short pause followed the question as Kestra thought carefully about a reply. "Not many. We will all be dead soon...by the end of winter. We don't have enough food." She was of course lying. Despite being young, 14 in age, she was smart and this reply would protect her people for a longer period of time than if she said that there were more than the Telamrines ever could have anticipated. That response would have ended in the burning of the Narnian forests.

"Oh, how unfortunate." The reply was sarcastic and had not left the mouth of the kind Professor but the Lord Miraz; who's smirk had grown to a size that could have matched his ego. "Most unfortunate indeed. We shall then have to prepare to move troops into the forests as soon as the winter months have come to an end. A fear of the forest will no longer be justified."

"No. Your wrong."

"What did you say?! Did you contradict me girl?!"

"I said your wrong. The death of all Narnians gives you even more of a reason to fear the forest. The trees and animals will be angry! If you interfere or enter the forest you will face the wrath of Aslan. You were right to fear the forest, your fears were and are justified. We Narnains may not be powerful in numbers but the magic of the Narnians, a magic you Telmarine's cannot comprehend, is more powerful than any Telmarine army!" Kestras face had shifted into a snarl and her small hands had formed fists.

Miraz's voice rose in anger "Get this girl out of my sight!" "You will live out the rest of your days in a prison cell, as the last Narnain." he hissed, spittle flying from his mouth.

As Kestra was dragged from the hall her eyes met Caspian's. Anger rose to the surface of her mind. She roared in frustration. The Lord's gasped in shock at the inhuman noise. She was tugged roughly by her underarms, she was getting dragged out backwards her heels scraping on the stone floor. The huge wooden doors banged shut after they had exited. Kestra was glaring daggers at the door. How could he? How could a boy his age, her age, stand by and allow the genocide of her people to unfold before him? Did nothing in his mind, a mind not yet corrupted by greed and power, think that what his people were doing was wrong? Kestra knew he could have said something, despite his young age many of the Lord's would have listened to him. She knew who he was- the young Prince Caspian; heir to the throne of Telmar. If he was anything like his father then perhaps there was hope for Narnia after all.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Escape

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia: the lion the witch and the wardrobe or the characters within said fandom however I do own my OC's. This fan fiction has been created for entertainment purposes only and is a non-profit fan fiction.

Metal hinges screeched as the cell door was slammed shut. Kestra ran towards the entrance and gripped the bars, tears began rolling down her face as she shook the gate. "Please, you can't leave me in here! Please, let me go!" her wails filled the jail cell, but the guards took no notice just continued to walk down the dimly lit hallway. Taking in her surroundings the young Narnian stepped towards a small pile of straw and her small body slumped forwards, before she curled up into a ball, her frame wracking with sobs.

Pounding could be heard , but in her sleep deprived state Kestra thought it was merely her heart pounding in her chest. However, as the sound got louder it became evident that it was footsteps. A figure cloaked in dark blue material stopped at her cell door, he reached for the hood of his cloak and pulled it off revealing the old Professor; his silver beard shining in the dim light. "Hush, dear one. I am not here to hurt you, I am merely here to enquire."

"Professor? Professor?" the new voice was that of a boy, Prince Caspian was Kestra's guess.

"Will you please be more silent Caspian. Do you wish to alert your Uncle of our presence down here?" Cornelius stood straighter and leaned backwards so as to address his student, who was gradually making his way down the dark corridor.

Kestra crept forward, her sharp eyes taking in the height and appearance of the old man before her. "Your a black dwarf!" She stated, eyes gleaming in excitement.

"Oh, do be quiet. I don't wish the entire Telmarine nation to know!"

She looked up at him with apologetic eyes. But, a small smile was still on her tear-stained face.

"I am half black dwarf, by my mother." he explained.

The arrival of the young Prince was signalled by the sound of footsteps. Unlike his older counterparts he looked kinder but just as determined as they, although for what cause Kestra could not tell.

As it turned out the Prince was very interested in the Narnian history and culture, although she was sure she had the Professor to thank for that. Cornelius too was very eager to discover how his mother's people were, though he never directly said in front of Caspian that he was half Narnian. The conversation with the two males calmed her nerves and her crying had ceased a few hours prior. As the night wore on the two Telmarine residents decided to retire for the night but with a promise to return the following evening. Before Caspian turned to leave he cocked his head and the words that left his mouth confused Kestra's already rattled brain.

"I have never had anyone my age to talk to before; that is, without having to act like royalty." He paused. "I am glad that I finally have a true friend who I can be myself around." The young Prince smiled kindly down at her and then turned on his heel leaving her once again in solitude.

The nightly visits had turned into a routine over the months. Cornelius would bring food from the palace kitchens so as to better feed Kestra's growling stomach. Caspian would often recount the adventure he had endured to get her the food.

"The cooks never catch me. I slip underneath the tables and steal the bread from the ovens and the meat right off the platter set for my uncle!" The excitement and pride in his voice resulted in hysterics from the young Narnian as she pictured Caspian rolling under tables like they were part of an obstacle course, much like Reepicheep did whilst training his loyal mouse followers in their agility skills.

"Don't laugh at me! Look at this burn on my hand, I got that whilst getting this bread for you! Next time I won't bother. We'll just have to see if my Professor is more successful than I." Instead of ceasing her laughter, Kestra scoffed into her food and continued to guffaw whilst her mind was attacked by new images of Cornelius rolling under tables.

Despite enjoying his company Kestra still had her misgivings about Caspian. Her anger, however small, was still at the back of her mind. How could he have not stepped up to protect her people? Were Prince's not brought up to be brave? The youngest of her own Kings and Queens of old, had been younger or about the same age when they had fought against the Snow Queen, Jadis. Yet Caspian was unable to speak against his own Lord's. Her discovery of Caspian's interest in the Narnian's had further lead to her anger towards him. If he was so interested then why not help preserve the culture he was fascinated by?

As the anniversary of her first year in the Telmarine prison drew closer Kestra began to realise that the Lord's of Telmar had in fact forgotten about her presence in their castle. This was understandable, they wanted her kin dead and so wanted her dead. This realisation dawned on her, without the Professor and Prince bringing her food she would have died of starvation long ago due to her prison food supplies getting cut off; although when this had happened she could not say.

Her days were spent scanning the pages of Narnian fairy stories and history books that had been provided for her by the kindly Professor. With her thoughts often on her people, sadness was a common feeling that flooded her mind and body. She missed her family and friends more than she could ever put into words. The two new friendships she had formed could not compensate for the lifelong friendships she had with her fellow Narnian's.

After the daily visit from the two Telmarines, Kestra collapsed onto her makeshift bed of straw. Something about how the conversation had flowed gave the Narnian the feeling that something was not quite right. Both the Professor and the young Prince seemed slightly out of character; Caspian was not jesting with her quite so much and Cornelius kept on ensuring that she was well fed and rested. His insistence on her telling him how much she had slept concerned the young girl, she in return reassured him that, due to not a lot happening during her days down in the cell, she slept more than she would when at home.

Once settled into what would soon become her position whilst she slept a strange feeling overcame her. The slight sense of claustrophobia that she had gotten used to over the past year had faded. At first Kestra just brushed the feeling off but after turning her head slightly to the side she sat bolt up right and scampered quickly towards the metal bars of her cell.

The gap between the gate and one of the metal bars of the cell was completely open. The thick piece of metal which was the lock was no longer in its designated place. She placed a hand on one of the metal bars and pushed lightly. With a screeching of metal against metal the door swung open, instead of rushing out of the cell Kestra stood stock still before falling to her knees. Finally, she understood the reasoning behind her friends behaviour early in the night.

"Thank you Cornelius. Thank you Caspian." she breathed gently into the murky air.

After getting over her shock she hauled herself up and sprinted down the corridor turning sharply as a staircase leading towards the castle halls fell into her view. She scrambled up the stone steps desperate to breathe the fresh air and once again see nature. She slowed as she neared occupied hallways and kept to the shadows, stealthily making her way past dozens of busy maids. Large curtains littered the halls, they were for decorative purposes but this night they hid a young Narnian. Whilst contemplating which direction she would go several soldiers passed her hiding pace one of whom she recognised as General Glozelle. She caught fragments of their conversation and understood that they were heading to stables. After they had turned a corner she raced after them eventually finding herself in a stable room and hidden behind barrels of horse feed. The riders mounted their steeds and burst through the open stable doors. Kestra leaped over the barrels and picked her way through the piles of horse dung. She hoiked her dirt encrusted dress above her ankles and raced towards the stable doors, her exit.

A large hand fell onto for shoulders stopping her progress sharply. The Narnian turned her head and came face to face with a Telmarine soldier. Over the past year Kestra had grown a good deal but compared to this man she may as well not have. Under normal circumstances she would have coward away from the giant of a man but nothing was going to get in the way of her freedom.

"What reasoning does a filthy gutter rat like you have to being out after dark and in the palace stables no less?" his voice was as deep as he was tall.

"No real reasoning Sir. Except I'm lost." this was a feeble reply and she knew it. The sooner she could part ways with this man the better and overpowering him was not at all out of the question.

The guards paced quietly atop the battlements their cross bows held tightly in their glove clad hands. A large expanse of grass land spread out before the castle and in the distance was the Great Wood it's canopy swaying gently in the wind. A large cat like silhouette streaked across the landscape flitting between boulders, gradually making its way towards the forest.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Telmarine archers

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or the characters within said fandom, however I do own my OC's. This fanfiction has been created for entertainment purposes only and is a non-profit fanfiction.

 _Authors note: I apologies for the huge delay between Chapter 2 and Chapter 3. I have been incredibly busy with six weeks of exams and the revision process before the exam period began. I have also been away for about two weeks, on holiday, and so have not had enough time to update. I also have to apologise for the length of the chapter; it is very, very short, but I felt I could write no more since I thought that everything after this event would flow better in a separate chapter! Now, enough of my excuses, I hope you enjoy this mini (it could possibly be called a filler) chapter!_

Silence filled the darkening forest like a thick mist, all flora and fauna of the tree-infested biome collaborated as one to relieve the inhabitants of noise and even the echoing hoots of the midnight dwellers were not heard. The eerie peace was soon shattered by a deep, resounding noise; one that was strikingly similar to a hunting horn. As the sound echoed across the forest, a wave of ethereal magic passed throughout the forest.

The hours quickly passed and the Narnian's began to gather together; both excitement and concern spreading throughout their minds.

It was on his way to 'The Dancing Lawn' that Reepicheep discovered the group of Telmarine archers. His instincts kicked in, his hatred of Telmarines taking over; he ran lithely through the ferns taking down Telmarine soldiers one by one; slicing their throats with his thin blade. Upon reaching the final soldier he leapt onto his chest, this was the first time Reepicheep met Caspian and his dislike of the young man could not have been greater.

The interference of Trufflehunter was the only reason the Prince's life had been saved. His quick outburst of "Reepicheep, stay your blade." was the single reason the the young human was still alive. Despite his amusement that Nikabrik was attempting to counter Trufflehunter's protest of keeping the boy alive, Reepicheep stuck by what the old badger had asked and refrained from killing the human he stood upon.

Caspian rose slightly, leaning on his elbows and staring at the over sized mouse. From across the ferns a short cry of outrage was heard, a single archer was still alive. He passed his fallen comrades, raising his crossbow and preparing to fire at the young Prince. Caspian scrabbled for his blade and Reepicheep, still standing upon Caspian's chest, raised his sword. Before either warriors could defend themselves, a low growl alerted them to a fifth presence. With a short cry the remaining soldier fell to the ground; his throat and chest having been ravaged by sharp claws. The animal landed swiftly and quietly in the undergrowth, it bowed it's head low to the small group; as the animals surrounding Caspian had all bowed their heads in thanks.

"This boy, Reepicheep, sounded the horn of the Queen." Trufflehunter struggled to speak easily with his wound.

It was at this moment that another party arrived, at their head the respected centaur, Glenstorm.

"Then let him bring it forth." His voice was soothing, yet deep and it held a great authoritative tone.

Caspian rose and followed the mass of Narnian's from the clearing where the Telmarine bodies lay. The creature also joined, mingling in with the Narnian's and running beside creatures similar to itself, Panthers, Cheetahs, Jaguars, Leopards and Wolves. This animal was a Leopard, a magnificent creature, lithe and graceful. Running through the forest it was silent, when the beast had interfered with the Telmarine archer, Caspian never heard the Leopard coming.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or the characters within said fandom, however I do own my OC's. This fanfiction has been created for entertainment purposes only and is a non-profit fanfiction.

 _Authors note: Looking back on Chapter 3, I can see how it is rather confusing, since I understand where this story is going and since I wrote it; I, at first, did not see it as a confusing chapter. So I apologise for the confusion of the story so far. Hopefully, this chapter will clear up any confusion and assist in the progression of the story. Sorry if Caspian is OOC and I apologise in advance if this chapter is just as bad as it's predecessor. Thank you for all reviews so far, they are greatly appreciated._

The council of the 'Dancing Lawn' stood proudly as Caspian was practically dragged to the centre of the large circle. The Narnian's grew increasingly angry; as their time arguing about Capsian's fate grew longer; their pain and sorrow became even more apparent. Caspian knew his people had caused this anger, but still he felt that it was unjust to place the blame entirely on him.

No-body stood in his favour, except the old badger; but his protests were constantly contradicted by the dwarf, Nikabrik. Caspian understood that the dwarf disliked him, but since meeting him the dwarf had attempted to kill him at least three times. It was during the chaos that ensued, after Nikabrik had mentioned the White Witch, that Caspian heard a voice.

"My friends, do you not remember when as a child I was kidnapped by the Telmarine's and stayed within their clutches for a year?"

This statement caused the Narnian's shouting to grow louder, their anger increasing as they remembered the loss of one of the young Narnian's. In contrast to the Narnian's anger, Caspian was greatly saddened; he had hoped that he and Kestra were friends, but it seemed that as the years passed she too had deemed all Telmarine's evil.

"I escaped from Telmar, but not without help. I had made two friends whilst in my cell and Prince Caspian here was one of them. He assisted me in my escape, he and his Professor gave me a fighting chance. I owe them my freedom and my life."

The area quietened. Caspian turned to face Kestra. To Caspian it seemed that she had never left, despite having grown slightly taller over the past several years, she had hardly changed.

It was Kestra's input that pushed Caspian into the favour of most of the Narnian's, he himself had made a speech that had captured the hearts of the Narnian's and it was decided that Caspian would stay with the forest dwellers.

 _LineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreak_

Camp was set up in a large clearing and the Narnian's quickly began to fall into deep sleeps. It was at this time, with very few people still awake, that Caspian finally approached Kestra. She was sat with her back against a tree and she was watching him walk towards her.

"Thank you, Caspian." She spoke up before he even had the chance to.

"What for?"

"For helping me escape all those years ago. I never had the chance to thank you."

He nodded his head in understanding and offered a smile.

"Kestra, after you had escaped, they found a body in the stables." She looked down guilty. "They say his body was covered in claw marks from an animal. I know you appear to be human, but even I know that there are no human Narnain's, besides the Kings and Queens of old. I have had to put two and two together, your inhuman growl in the Hall of the Lords and the nature of this killing on the night of your escape."

"You know your history Young Prince. And you know far more about Narnian's than the rest of your kin." He chuckled at the old nickname and looked at her expectantly.

She sighed deeply.

"I am what is known as a 'Skin-Walker' or 'Shapeshifter'. Many Narnian's are Skin-Walker's. Skin-Walkers have two forms, one Human and one Animal. All the four legged animals here; the panthers, the leopards, the Jaguars, the cheetahs, the wolves, all of them are Skin Walkers. Skin Walkers are either born in Human form or Animal form, whichever body you were born in is generally the body that you prefer to stay in, in my case Human. No-body else is in human form because you are a Telmarine and they did not wish for you to know our secret, but I trust you. My animal form is a leopard."

"You were the leopard, that killed the archer in the forest."

"Yes Caspian. And I killed the soldier in the stables, I did not want to but I had no choice."

 _LineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreak_

The night patrols were changing shifts, they were grumbling loudly, their eyes heavily lidded due to the lack of sleep. Knowing that their superiors were far from them, they leaned against the wagons and shut their tired eyes, rather than march up and down beside the river protecting the supplies.

Two dozen Narnain's left the shelter of the forest. They had been hiding behind large rocks waiting for when the patrols were weakest. It was an easy task, knocking the Telmarine guards out.

They ran back and forth between the wagons and the forest, carrying vast varieties of weaponry. As the sun began to peak above the tree line, they all fled back into the protection of the forest.

Before Kestra left the clearing she caught sight of Caspian carving something into the wood of one of the wagons.

"Come Caspian, we must leave before the Telmarine soldiers arrive." She grabbed hold of his arm and attempted to drag him with her.

"No! I must do this, my Uncle must know." He tugged his arm from her grasp, causing her to stumble.

Soon after, Caspian turned and ran towards the forest, catching her arm and pulling her with him. Upon entering the woods they each picked up a sack of weapons and walked through the thick undergrowth back to the safety of camp.

"Why did you never tell me about you being a Skin-Walker before?" This question had been at the back of Caspian's mind since she had told him of her and her kin. After their conversation he began to notice more and more humans wandering through the camp.

"You were a Telmarine, we may have been on friendly terms but I had been brought up not to trust Telmarine's and I stuck by what my family taught me. I understand now that you are different from other Telmarine's and I do trust you Caspian, I just wish I trusted you when we were younger."

Caspian nodded in reply, understanding how her upbringing had affected her ability to trust him, he too had been brought up to hate and not trust Narnian's and if it weren't for his Professor he doubted he would have trusted Kestra.

 _LineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreakLineBreak_

The small army made slow but steady progress towards Aslan's How. Gradually, a mutual trust and respect had formed between Caspian and the Narnian's.

The training was ceaseless, each warrior trained furiously, their marching became a test of endurance and every break they had would be spent sparring. The Narnian's were a strong, powerful, warrior race; when once they had been peaceful. The Telmarine invasion had hardened them into being survivors and warriors.

Caspian often sparred with Kestra, she too fought with a sword when in human form and the style of Narnian fighting differed greatly to the stiff, orderly fighting of the Telmarine army. They were swifter, more agile and used this to overpower their opponents. Caspian soon adopted this fighting style seeing that it better matched his stature, he was not overly strong; not in comparison to some of the larger, muscly soldier of the Telmarine army and Kestra's teachings taught him to use his opponents weight and strength against them. She also claimed that Telmarine soldiers were very confident with their fighting skills and this in itself was a disadvantage for the enemy soldiers.

It was during one of these breaks, when Kestra was with her kin, that her enhanced hearing picked up a short exclamation of "Aslan?!"

All the ears of the Skin-Walkers pricked up and they stalked slowly towards where the noise had originated from. Whilst in animal form the Skin-Walkers had enhanced senses and they all picked up on the smell of humans in the air. The clashing of swords confirmed their fears and the group of animals took off in the direction of the small battle. They stopped at the top of a hill, other Narnian's stood on it's slopes taking in the scene below; Caspian stood at the base of a large oak with four other humans, each of them dressed in old Narnian garb.


End file.
